


Paint the Stars

by reiley



Series: Torchwood Jack/Ianto Ficlets [5]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: Angst, Angsty Schmoop, Episode: s01e13 End of Days, Ficlet, Ficlet Collection, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-15
Updated: 2013-02-15
Packaged: 2017-11-29 09:04:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/685218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reiley/pseuds/reiley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>sickeningly sweet post-EoD Jack/Ianto reunion</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paint the Stars

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted 12/19/07

* * *

“Thought I might find you here.”

“I thought you’d have found me sooner.”

“Yeah, well, there was a… thing. Got a little out of hand. Took some time to sort it all out.”

Ianto’s shoulders tense up and he turns to face Jack. “Is everyone alright?”

“Oh, sure,” Jack says, leaning back against the wall by the door. “Owen’s got a few bruises. His own fault, really, but isn’t it usually?”

With a slight, curt nod, Ianto turns back to the picture window of the cabin, overlooking the mountains and the lake. The last time he and Jack were up here together… Oh, how different it had been. How different Ianto had thought it was. A weekend away from the hub and the team and aliens, or ghosts from the past, civilization in general, and the not so civilized people, too. It had been just the two of them and nothing else.

God, he was so stupid. To think it had ever… that any of it _ever_ meant anything to Jack…

“I never get over this view,” Jack breathes into his ear.

Ianto tries not to flinch. He hadn’t even heard Jack move behind him.

“And you got the same cabin, too. Same as last time. I’ve seen a lot of wonderful things in my life, Ianto, but this here, with you, is definitely in the top five.”

“I’m not coming back.”

Jack’s shoulders slump and he sighs out loud. “Why not?”

“I can’t do it anymore, Jack. I can’t live that life, disconnected from the rest of the world, watching all the people I know… and care about… just destroy themselves. Suzie should have been the final straw, but I still had…” He closes his eyes; it still hurts so much just to say her name. Taking a deep breath, Ianto continues, “Even after that, I stayed. I stayed because of you. Because you… I believed in you. I believed you knew what you were doing. I believed you knew what was best. I believed that you cared about us and that you’d do your best to look after us. I believed that out of all the madness and chaos in this universe that _you_ would be the one thing I could count on!”

He hadn’t realized he’d started shouting until he feels the sting in his throat and the tears on his face. Breathing deeply, mentally counting down to slow his racing heart, Ianto feels Jack’s hand hovering at his back, not quite touching, not quite daring. Jack remains silent.

Quietly, the words tumble from Ianto’s mouth, “But you left. You left and we fell apart and we tried our best, we really did, but it wasn’t good enough. Gwen barely slept for two weeks. Owen had to sedate her and take her home. Tosh was nearly killed and Owen will always blame himself for that. He’ll always believe that it was his fault, if he’d only been faster, better, more like…” He stops himself from finishing that thought. The thought they’d all had: _If only we could be more like Jack._

With a shaky breath, Ianto whispers, “There’s just not enough left in us. In me. I can’t do it again.”

“But I’m here now. Doesn’t that make it better?”

With a mirthless snort, Ianto asks, “For how long?” He looks to Jack and it’s written all over his face. “See. You can’t even tell me that. You’ve never told us anything. You should have prepared us! You were our leader and you let us down. You were always planning to leave.” He smiles when Jack looks surprised. “Yes. I figured that much out. It’s the only reason you were in Cardiff to begin with, isn’t it? It was never about Torchwood or saving the planet, arming the human race. It was never about us, at all. You were just waiting around for something better to come along.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about. You don’t know anything about me.”

_“That’s exactly the point, Jack!”_

Ianto rounds on him and Jack physically recoils.

“You’ve never told us _anything_ about you. I don’t even know who you are. Every conversation we’ve ever had has been complete bollocks. Every time we were together…” His eyes water and he can’t see and he knows his voice is trembling and he hates himself for it. “It was nothing. It was all nothing to you.”

“That’s not true.”

“All the things I thought I knew about you I had to piece together on my own from all the scraps that you let slip and the few bits that I could gather here and there. You’ve never told me anything, Jack.”

Ianto stares so hard, his eyes burn, but Jack just stares back, neither challenging nor contrite. Just Jack.

And he snaps. “ _Tell_ me something, Jack! Just one little thing. Something you’ve never told anyone before. Something real!” Another deep breath, Ianto pleads, “Just one thing.”

The staring continues until Ianto can’t take the silence any longer. He turns back to the window, resting his forehead against the cool glass, his breath puffing out, making foggy clouds in front of his face.

“When I was little I was afraid of the dark,” Jack says so suddenly, quietly, that Ianto barely registers it.

Turning his head just slightly to the side, Ianto gazes back impassively, but curious.

“Really, _really_ terrified,” Jack emphasizes. “I was four, maybe five and my ai- My nanny…” he trails off, seeing Ianto narrow his eyes: a look that means he knows when Jack censors himself for the benefit of his audience.

Straightening his shoulders, Jack breathes deeply. “We called them _aiaht’ha_. They were like nannies. Sort of. They were our caregivers, providing all the necessities until we matured into adulthood and went out on our own. Everyone had their own _aiaht’ha_. After you were born, you were given to her… Well, they were an asexual species, but for lack of an English translation, we’ll just call her ‘she’ for now.” Jack grins his patented grin, but it falters and something… _real_ shines through. “I remember her so vividly sometimes, Ianto. She had this beautiful, coral colored, iridescent skin and long, fiery red hair that wasn’t really like hair at all. It was like a solid mass of silk, long and flowing. And she was mine, only mine. Even though their species were all pretty much identical, you could always tell yours apart from the rest.”

Ianto has turned fully to watch Jack. He’s never seen Jack like this before. Sure, Jack’s told stories, dozens, hundreds, thousands, but never like this. His eyes closed and a look of utter bliss on his face; peace, contentment. He opens his eyes and blue meets blue.

“I’d lie awake at night, in my bed, too scared to close my eyes for fear of what might be out there and she’d come to me. With her hands… They would sort of glow and leave their mark.” Jack gestures with his own hands. “She’d paint the stars, constellations in the air for me. She’d recreate the whole universe inside my small room just so I wouldn’t have to fall asleep in the dark.”

Jack steps forward and Ianto lets him take his hand, because he’s never seen that smile on Jack’s face before. Their hands entwined, Jack shows him just how she would paint the stars, naming off constellations Ianto has never heard of, telling a story of a lonely warrior traveling through the stars, searching for peace. He finishes with ‘Malus Lupus.’

“That was always my favorite,” Jack tells him. “My _aiaht’ha_ would always tell me that if I ever got lost, just look for this set of stars here and her nose would point the way home.” His eyes grow distant and the smile slips from his face. “She was murdered when I was thirteen. Slaughtered in the genocide of her people just before the war.”

Ianto’s hand finds its way to Jack’s face, wiping the tears away with a thumb. There’s nothing he can say. He knows Jack has seen more loss and pain in his lifetime than he could ever imagine.

“It wasn’t all terrible, though. When I was growing up.” Jack’s eyes regain their warmth. “There were some beautiful and amazing things, too.” He sniffs and smiles again, a softer, sadder smile. “Ianto… Please come back. I’ll tell you anything you want to know, but you have to come back. I need you to keep out the dark.”

* * *


End file.
